“Underneath that tree, there’s just gonna be you and me; underneath that apple suckling tree oh yeah.” – Bob Dylan

As I recall, it was a warm afternoon under an azure sky, along the county road, in a place where the lumberman’s axe and saw had felled more than a hundred trees.

I was among a group of young kids whose task it was to plant jack pine seedlings to revitalize this stand of trees.

The job only took us about three hours to complete, and it was more than 40 years ago, but that day has stuck in the back of my mind as one of the great nature and conservation connection experiences of my youth.

In retrospect, there were several things that made it special.

There was something about walking among the dead pine branches, blueberry bushes, and gray jack pine cones and reindeer lichen — a strange and vacant landscape that still inspires wonder.

Here, in this place born of fire, some of the jack pine cones were still sealed tight, waiting for the heat of summer day, or a wildland blaze, to pop them open so their seeds could drop to the ground below.

We brought seedlings that would stand about a foot off the ground once the brown roots were covered with earth. With the bright green needles of these tree starts we painted this gray expanse along the roadside with a splash of color and life.

Later, we wandered down to the creek to throw rocks in the water and get wet wading. Leaning over the warm concrete rail of the bridge felt good. The sunshine felt like it could make anything grow, even kids.

In the years that followed, we’d drive past that jack pine plantation and I could see the trees had grown taller and closer together all the time. Not far from here, Michigan’s nearly endemic Kirtland’s warblers would be found, some of the very few Upper Peninsula sightings at the time.

There was also something about being taught how to plant and grow something that held a great deal of satisfaction. This had started at home in the backyard, helping my mom in the long, narrow flower and vegetable garden she tended.

I remember shaking the dirt, worms and grubs out of chunks of sod she was cutting from the grass to enlarge the garden. Up against the foundation of the house, sweet peas clung to a wall trellis.

There were a few hollyhocks there too. The vegetables in the raised beds included peas, carrots, green beans and tomatoes.

In the front of the house, smaller, attractive flower gardens decorated the area lying just outside the porch. Red poppies, pretty zinnia flowers and marigolds. Here, in the springtime, were white and purple crocuses and daffodils, pushing up through the snow around Eastertime.

I remember catching suckers out fishing and bringing them home to bury in the garden as natural fertilizer, the way we were taught in elementary school Native Americans planted their crops.

Here in the sun, with the shovel and the jack pine seedlings, it felt the same way — putting something good into the ground to get something good to come back out. Intrinsically, it felt true and right.

There was also the spirit of altruism, doing something for the greater good, best yet, something for the woods and the wilds we had all grown up in, shaping our lives.

Today, some of those old jack pines tower against the sky as they stand ruggedly in that plantation. That’s a great feeling of satisfaction, to be able to see the result of something we did all those years ago.

Recently, I saw Michigan United Conservation Clubs was planning one of their “On the Ground” project days near Gwinn.

The plan was to plant more than 100 apple and crabapple trees to provide browse for wildlife. The “On the Ground” initiative, which partners with the Michigan Department of Natural Resources, began in 2013 with six pilot projects.

Since that time, roughly 1,500 volunteers have participated in projects ranging from installing fish spawning structures and hinge-cutting trees for snowshoe hare and white-tailed deer to installing wood duck boxes and aspen stand regeneration.

I thought it would be great to get a few friends together to join in the effort, including three young girls who I sensed might consider this a rewarding experience.

Like that day on the jack pine plains, the sun was bright and the sky was blue. Including our group of six, there were 20 volunteers out there that day, which started with a demonstration on how to plant trees.

In no time, the girl power trio had taken their instruction well and were now working as a team all their own, digging holes in the ground for the saplings, planting the trees and zip-tying protective metal fencing around them.

When we finished for the day, after lunch, the girls were ready to keep going. “Tater” and the “Mool” said they had fun and they clearly enjoyed the work. The youngest, the one nicknamed “Stub,” or the “Panda Princess,” said she liked the different scenery of being in the woods away from town she sees every day.

We all had a great day. It was very cool watching all the other volunteers planting trees in their small groups, while at the same time, we all worked as one team.

Again, the feeling of giving something back to nature was strong and important. It was like being in a dream for me, one I was enjoying with people I care for, among the beauty, the birdsong, the woods and the water — a day reminiscent of that sunny day so long ago, beneath the azure sky, stepping on a planting spade, finding my roots on the jack pine plains.

Editor’s note: John Pepin is the deputy public information officer for the Michigan Department of Natural Resources. Outdoors North is a weekly column produced by the Michigan Department of Natural Resources on a wide range of topics important to those who enjoy and appreciate Michigan’s world-class natural resources of the Upper Peninsula.